


Not Ready

by Writingwife83



Series: Six Sentence Ficlets Expanded [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Drama & Romance, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Now with a happy ending!, Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15065774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: Immediately after the events of The Lying Detective, Molly is faced with harsh reality when staying overnight with Sherlock as he deals with withdrawals. While supporting him as best she can, unexpected things begin to happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *choo choo* All aboard the angst train! XD This is the second request I got to expand a 6 sentence ficlet I wrote a while back. And boy did I expand it lol. This is the kind of thing I touched on before, like in Complicated Little Emotions. But here I got to go a bit deeper with it. I enjoyed writing this a lot actually. Hope you guys enjoy reading! ;D

Molly heard the small clatter in the bathroom and she was instantly on her feet. She hesitated a moment, her fingers hovering at the door before daring to knock lightly.

“Are you- is everything ok?”

An audible sigh.

“I’m not shooting up if that’s what you’re wondering.”

She paused, making sure her tone was relaxed and non combative. 

“No no, I just heard the crash so thought maybe something broke. That’s all.”

The door opened unexpectedly and huffed in frustration as he gestured to the floor. “I knocked over the jar of cotton swabs while drying my hands.”

“Oh, here, let me help!”

They both knelt down, picking up the little sticks from the floor. In the process, she easily noticed the tremor in his hands.

“You’re um, a little shaky. Maybe I should make you some tea,” Molly offered. “You should relax.”

“I don’t need more tea, or to lie back and shut my eyes, or to think happy thoughts,” he bit back, exhaling unsteadily as he stopped and rubbed his weary eyes. “None of those things will shut all of this off!”

“I- I know,” she admitted quietly. “It’s just a matter of time for all that. I’m just...I’m trying to help however I can.”

Sherlock leaned his head back against the bathroom wall where he sat, shutting his eyes.

“My head is pounding but I can’t stop it racing. I’m hungry but I can barely stomach anything. I could surely do with some sleep but I’m far too jittery.” 

Molly stopped what she was doing as well then, unable to take her eyes off his pitiful form. His eyes shut tight, hands gripping his knees to quell the shaking, and she could see his jaw clenching continually. He actually looked smaller to her than usual. 

“It’s ok,” she said softly, which sounded awfully hollow out loud.

He didn’t respond, just kept taking steady breaths, though that didn’t seem to be helping. Each inhale and exhale seemed fraught with anxiety and pain.

Instinct took over. 

“It’s ok,” Molly repeated, but this time she reached over and laid a hand over his when saying it.

“It’s not,” he muttered, eyes still shut. “None of it is.”

“It will be,” she replied firmly, moving her hand gently over his. “It will, I promise. Tomorrow it’ll be better. And then the next day, and the next, and the next. Each one will be an improvement.”

Sherlock’s eyes opened then, meeting hers as he swallowed visibly.

“Some things can’t ever get better,” he whispered. 

Molly scooted over closer, looking at him intently and muscling away the emotion his words brought up. “But  _ you _ can get better! You can and that’s all you should be worrying about right now.”

His eyes shut again, wincing as if a new wave of pain surfaced.

“You’ll be fine, come here,” she murmured, slipping an arm around his shoulders. 

It was harder- far harder than she’d anticipated to see him like this. Typical inhibitions she’d feel at this sort of contact with him had melted away. She was almost desperate to build him up, support him, strengthen him, to get a glimpse of the Sherlock she knew and loved. She couldn’t stomach seeing him like this much longer. This poor man crumpled on his bathroom floor.

She didn’t consciously register the fact that he’d leaned his head into hers, but she automatically responded in kind. Her hand gently kneaded at his shoulder where it was anchored and she nestled her cheek against his head. Maybe it was in her imagination, but she thought she could feel some of the tense energy dissipate. 

And then it just felt like breathing, turning her face into him a bit and pressing a kiss to his temple. So she did it again.

It still didn’t feel strange to her, when she felt his opposite arm move to rest across her middle, his fingers just lightly gripping to stay in place.

“You’re ok,” Molly insisted softly, before she pressed yet another kiss to the side of his face, lingering far more this time.

It was somewhat unconscious, the way her hand came up to cradle the side of his face, holding him where he was as she continued placing kisses to his skin. Kisses to mend his wounds, to warm him, to comfort him, maybe to make him forget. Perhaps even trying to make herself forget.

She was vaguely aware that the pressure of his fingers around her waist increased, but she didn’t notice so much when he shifted his head, turning more towards her. But the next time her lips touched his face, realization hit her hard.

Her lips had touched his. 

Just barely. It was more like the corner of her lips contacted the corner of his as she kissed his cheek. But it was enough to send a spark of recognition through her, making her pull back to look into his eyes; in shock, apology, question...she wasn’t sure which. What she saw looking back at her though, that was almost more jarring.

Sherlock’s eyes, half lidded, staring at her face only inches away. The agony that had been written on his features only moments before was completely erased, replaced by a sort of serenity. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he had managed to shoot up somehow.

But then he licked his lips, glancing back at hers. And just like that she realized that the look in his eyes was not one of serenity.

Molly kicked herself that she shouldn’t have crossed this kind of line at a time like this. Despite his wounded exterior, this wasn’t some little child she was cradling and comforting. This was a grown man...a man she was in love with. They were so close; noses almost touching, practically sharing the same breath, hands holding onto each other. It felt like the natural thing to do moments before, but she recognized now that it might be wise to take a physical step back. 

“What?” Molly questioned softly, realizing he’d just said something while she was deep in thought.

His eyes bored into hers, that alone preventing her from moving away. Though that was nothing compared to what came out of his mouth.

“Don’t stop.”

Part of her wanted to shake her head at his words, scoot back, let go of his face, remind him about the offer of tea...any and all of that. But it simply wasn’t a big enough part. The rest of her wanted the very opposite. She wanted to do exactly what he said.

She leaned back in tentatively, lips touching just about where they had before, partially on his. She felt as well as heard him release a sigh at the renewed contact and it sent a shiver through her, head to toe. That was really all it took. 

The tone of her kisses on his face shifted instantly, from comforting and soft to desperate and hungry. She felt his hands tug, pulling her in though they were already as close as possible for sitting against that bathroom wall. It just wasn’t nearly close enough.

He seemed to lose patience with her kisses, reaching up to cradle her face and using his thumb to pull down on her chin, easily parting her lips. And then his mouth finally and completely met hers, making it Molly’s turn to sigh.

He’d seemed so broken minutes before, weak and sad and helpless. Molly couldn’t help but feel like now he was back to who she’d been missing. She wanted him to be Sherlock Holmes, the strong, clever, capable man who could intellectually or physically lay anybody flat on their back, hardly knowing what hit them. She could feel that now, that man who was missing before. It made her smile against his lips to see him this alive, this strong all of a sudden. And to know that she’d been the cause of it.

Sherlock somehow managed to shift her over, clear off the bathroom floor and instead onto his lap, sitting up to wrap his arms around her so blissfully tight as he continued devouring her with kisses. She made a conscious decision then, to silence every question, every doubt in her own mind. She drowned them out with her own contented noises at the feeling of his lips and tongue on hers and on her skin. 

They didn’t stay there much longer. The moments that followed were a blur, but somehow they made their way from that bathroom floor back to the sitting room, collapsing together on the couch. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation or question between them after that. After all, the decision had really already been made. He’d already begged her not to stop.

And she’d already wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

Molly started awake, blinking and glancing around. The first sight that caught her eye was Sherlock, shirtless, pouring a cup of coffee in the kitchen. As she began to sit up and felt the blanket on her chest nearly slip off and realized there was nothing underneath...

_ Oh dear God it was real. _

Molly swung her legs down to the floor, sitting there clutching the blanket and her head. It felt almost like a hangover. A lovely hangover in a way, though of course it was far more complicated than a simple afterglow. 

“Coffee?”

She glanced up at his question. He sounded almost normal. He looked better than he had last night before they’d… He still wasn’t the good old Sherlock, but she mused that perhaps this had been some sort of beneficial therapy for him amidst his recovery. She wasn’t sure if she should take that as a compliment or not. 

Molly nodded at the offer of the cup and took it but quickly set it on the table, suddenly jolted with a glance at the clock.

“Oh God, when is John getting here?”

Sherlock slipped a dressing gown up over his shoulders. “Relax, he’ll be another half hour. He just texted,” he replied evenly.

Too evenly.

She stared at him where he stood by the window and her heart sank. She knew that look, that stance, that tone. He’d shut down. She let out a little huff.

“What?”

“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered softly, looking away and shaking her head before meeting his eyes. “So that’s it then?”

His gaze shifted tellingly.

“I mean, my expectations were...low, to say the least. And I started it, I’ll certainly admit to that, but I also wasn’t the only one who kept it going. And now this is how the morning is going to go? I can see exactly what’s going on here. You’re all geared up to let me quietly get dressed and stroll out of your flat with no more than a ‘see you round’ aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

It seemed an eternity before he opened his mouth.

“You know me, Molly,” he said simply.

“That’s right, I do. We’re  _ friends _ ! We’ve been friends for  _ years _ and I know you better than almost anyone. Don’t you think that means I deserve just a tiny bit more than the cold shoulder after we did...all the things that we did together last night?!”

“What do you want me to say?!” Sherlock asked desperately, turning to face her then.

Molly laughing humorlessly in the early morning light streaming in. “That it meant  _ something _ ! I’m not saying exactly what, but I mean, my God, if I’ve just spent the night with a newly recovering drug addict who can barely forgive himself for even being alive, at the very least I’d like to think that I wasn’t the only idiot who felt something! You said I know you, and you’re right, I do. That means the way you said things last night, the way you did things...I know you enough to know that wasn’t meaningless. Please don’t act like it was.”   


“Don’t you understand?! I can’t say any of the things you want me to!” he growled, raking fingers through his hair in frustration. 

Molly gaped in horror, her worst fears from her deciding moments the night before becoming a reality. It wasn’t enough that she’d spent years in unrequited love with the man. Now she was about to become a one night stand on top of it. But before she could say anything else in response, he sighed and crossing the room to join her on the couch again and cradle her face as if he were holding on for dear life.    


“I can’t because what this meant and what I felt,” he explained carefully while watching the tears pool in her sweet brown eyes, “are words I am simply… _ not ready  _ to speak.”

She gulped some of the emotion back, leaning her cheek into his grasp. Now, hearing his words and looking into his eyes as he spoke, she was just as gutted for him as she was for herself. 

“That being the case, perhaps that means I should not have allowed us to go as far as we did last night,” he continued sadly. “For that I’m sorry.”

She nodded, sniffling a little as he wiped away the couple tears that had escaped down her cheek.

“Then I suppose...I won’t say it either,” she finally whispered, giving him a wobbly smile. “What this meant to me, I mean.”

He smiled in return, and she could have sworn his chin trembled a bit. 

“Fair enough.”

A bit of silence hung between them for a moment as his hands fell from her face.

“I’ll just, um, go get dressed then,” she said, clutching the blanket around her as she stood. “I think some of my clothes are-“

“Still in the bathroom, yes.”

“Ok.”

Molly picked herself up as best she could, taking her time washing her face and dressing in the bathroom. It was funny, she thought wryly, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d spent the night with Sherlock Holmes, and yet here they were in almost the same spot they’d been for years. It felt a little different of course, if she conjured the memories of the night before. But in reality, in the light of day, nothing had truly changed between them. And there was nothing for her to do now but accept it.

She finally emerged, the throw blanket over her arm.

“Here, maybe you’ll want to throw this in the wash- oh, hi, John.”

“Hey, Molly,” John greeted brightly. “Hope he wasn’t too much of a bother last night.”

She managed a smile at him with minimal blushing. “No no, we managed.”

She looked at Sherlock again, handing him the blanket as she picked up her coat and bag. 

“Sherlock, I’ll be ready when you are, ok?” Molly said as pointedly as the circumstances allowed.

He held her gaze, giving her a simple nod in reply. 

She smiled then turned to leave, noticing John’s bewildered expression on her way. In fact, as she started down the stairs, she barely heard his confused, “What was that all about?”

She kept going, not waiting to listen for Sherlock’s reply. It was pretty obvious to her what it would be. He’d simply say, “it was nothing” and the subject would be dropped. Because right now, in this moment, he wasn’t ready to say it was anything more than that. He really wasn’t.

Not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the demand for a happier ending, I have now added this second chapter to wrap things up with a pretty bow for these two fools. If this doesn’t offset the angsty first chapter, I don’t know what will! XD

MYCROFT AND I HAVE A BRILLIANT BUT DANGEROUSLY MAD SISTER- SH

Molly rubbed at her eyes, squinting at the text message that lit up her mobile screen in the wee hours of that morning. She was about to question what in the world he was on about, but he beat her to it.

I ONLY JUST LEARNED OF HER MYSELF. QUITE A LONG STORY...ONE WHICH I’LL SHARE AT ANOTHER TIME. I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT MY SISTER- EURUS- SHE MADE ME CALL YOU AND ASK YOU TO SAY THAT. CLAIMED SHE HAD YOUR FLAT RIGGED TO EXPLODE. -SH

Reading those words, adrenaline instantly flooded her veins till his next text came through.

WHICH WAS A LIE. BUT SHE KNEW THE CLAIM WOULD FORCE ME TO BE NOTHING BUT COMPLIANT. -SH

She suddenly realized she hadn’t responded yet and then began typing.

YOU’RE AWARE THIS ALL SOUNDS A BIT MADE UP RIGHT? -MH

WELL AWARE. IF I WERE LYING I’D TRY TO INVENT SOMETHING FAR LESS OUTLANDISH. IF NEEDED THOUGH, MY BROTHER, JOHN, AND GREG CAN ALL CONFIRM WHAT I’VE SAID. -SH

Molly chewed her lip. She hardly needed to seek out confirmation from anyone else. Yes, Sherlock knew how to lie, and do it well. And he was right. Ironically, this was far too ridiculous to be a good lie. Which begged the question…

SO...ARE YOU OK? -MH

I AM NOW. JUST WANTED YOU TO OFFER AN EXPLANATION. GO BACK TO SLEEP NOW. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE INTO BART’S TILL 11 TODAY. -SH

Molly snorted out a laugh. Amidst all of that insanity, he still knew her work schedule.

She fell back against her pillow, replaying their conversation earlier, now with the backdrop of what little he’d just described. Naturally she had a whole lot of questions that needed answering now. Though, there would surely be plenty of time for that later. It was a conversation he likely wasn’t ready for yet.

Molly mused that she was amassing quite a collection of those conversations lately.

She also concluded that he was as mad as his sister if he thought she’d be getting any more sleep on this particular morning. 

* * *

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

Molly walked down Bart’s hallway for a coffee break, taking out her mobile to check emails as she went.

COULD I GO BY YOUR FLAT? THOUGHT I MIGHT CATCH YOU ON BREAK AT THE MOMENT. -SH

She frowned at her phone. 

WELL I AM ON BREAK, BUT I’M NOT GOING HOME. WON’T BE HOME FOR ANOTHER FEW HOURS. -MH

YES, I KNOW. JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE IT WOULD BE ALRIGHT I LET MYSELF IN. -SH

SURE, THAT’S FINE. YOU HAVE A KEY. -MH

THANK YOU. SEE YOU WHEN YOU GET HOME. -SH

“Hm, see you then I spose,” she muttered to herself. Apparently he was planning to be there a while. 

She’d seen so little of him since the incident...either incident. Partly circumstantial of course. The man was literally rebuilding his entire life, so he didn’t have too much extra time on his hands. But it did also seem to her that he was keeping a bit of extra distance by design. 

In fact, the previous week when she picked up Rosie from John, she asked how Sherlock was doing and John’s reply seemed a bit telling. 

_ “He’s good, yeah. Doing better all the time I’d say. And don’t worry, he is planning to get in touch soon to, y’know, talk.” _

She’d become instantly flustered, unsure of how much John knew or didn’t know, and she stammered out something about how that was perfectly fine and she certainly wasn’t sitting around waiting to hear from him.

Which was rubbish. Of course she wanted to hear from him. Of course she wanted to talk to him about a million and one things that she’d been sitting on for weeks now. If she thought they had unfinished business between them before, that was nothing compared to adding in the events from the Sherrinford incident.

Well no, not nothing, she reminded herself. They’d had sex. 

Molly blew out a heavy breath as she kept walking, making herself blush all alone in Bart’s hallway as the memories once again came flooding back...nearly drowning her.

* * *

 

Molly fumbled with her keys and bag, hearing Toby pawing at the door anticipating her entrance. She rolled her eyes a little actually, hearing footsteps and knowing Sherlock was in there and could have opened the door for her. 

“Really good of you to let me-“ she began sarcastically while stepped through the door, but very quickly froze where she stood, swallowing the rest of her sentence. Nearly every surface of her flat was adorned with candles, some big, some small. And in the midst of this shocking scene, with hands stuffed somewhat nervously in his pockets, stood Sherlock. 

“Hi.”

Molly glanced around one more time before bringing her eyes back to him and replying softly. 

“Hi…”

“They’re not real.”

She frowned.

“The candles, I mean. It’s those battery powered ones. Angelo uses these kind at his restaurant now and he told me where I’d be able to get such a large number on short notice,” he rattled off. “I’m a bit more wary of...fire indoors these days. Safety first.”

Molly cracked a little smile, finally stepping fully inside and shutting her door behind her. She reached over to hang her bag and coat on the rack, keeping her motions slow, unconsciously trying not to disturb this strange fantasy she’d stepped into. 

“Sherlock, what is all-“

“You said you’d be ready when I am.”

Her brows instantly shot up at those words. 

“Well I am now...ready, that is.”

She gulped, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear and trying not to get her hopes too high too fast.

“Um, Sherlock,” Molly started, momentarily reaching down to give Toby a scratch who wouldn’t stop winding round her legs in irritation at not being acknowledged yet. “Listen, I just want to make sure you understand that saying what you said just because I asked you to say it...well, that doesn’t mean I automatically expect you to be ready.”

“I know,” he replied with surety. “Which is why I only sent some simple texts three weeks ago and opted against coming round your flat with five dozen candles at four AM.”

Molly smiled. “Ok. Well I just wanted to, y’know, make sure…”

“Do you know why I’m sure?”

She shrugged.

Sherlock strolled slowly forward as he spoke softly. “Because weeks ago, thinking seriously about my feelings for you was the last thing I could focus on. Now...I can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

“Oh,” she breathed, unsure if she’d said it aloud since the heartbeat pounding in her ears drowned out the tiny word.

“So,” he continued, gingerly reaching out to take one of her hands. “Maybe you’d like to come sit?”

Molly nodded, happily letting him lead her to the little sofa, along with Toby who wouldn’t stand for being left out. He curled up against Molly’s thigh, purring and kneading the throw blanket beside them.

“That night with you at Baker St-“ He paused to clear his throat. “You wanted to know if it meant something to me. Well the truth is that it didn’t mean something.”

Momentary horror swept over her till he went on.

“It meant  _ everything _ .”

“Sherlock,” she whispered, squeezing his hand that still held hers.

“That wasn’t just sex,” he stated firmly. “I know that I was a mess at the time, both physically and mentally, and I’m still sorry for that. But despite all of that, what we did was…well it was genuinely meaningful. And once it happened it became pretty clear that it had been a long time coming.”

She tilted her head at him in surprise. “Wait, really? You mean for a long time before that you’d been...wanting to?”

“Not consciously, no. But you see, when we were together, I kept being struck with these little thoughts like,  _ ‘finally _ ,’ or  _ ‘I’d always wondered what her skin would taste like,’  _ or even,  _ ‘it seems this particular area is as sensitive for her as I always guessed it would be.’ _ ”

“I think I get the idea,” Molly said with a little laugh. “Basically, I’d been frequenting the mind palace a bit more than you realized?”

“Basically,” he agreed, and she could swear his ears were a little pink. “Which is also why saying what I said on the phone came out the way it did.”

She held her breath.

“Because that’s what was already there inside me,” he explained softly. “It wasn’t a bomb threat that coaxed me to say ‘I Love You,’ and say it genuinely. It was because you asked me to do it.”

Molly drew a shaky breath, exhaling slowly. She felt almost lightheaded listening to all of this. She thought she was coming home tonight to sit in front of the telly, drinking wine and eating leftover take away. She might have put in a bit more effort this morning had she known.

“Well, um, you should know that I meant what I said as well,” she replied, feeling like it was time for her to participate in the honesty hour as well. “I really have always...loved you. Gosh, sorry, it just feels strange saying that to your face!”  

He chuckled. “I’m sort of hoping we’ll get used to it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Really? You mean like...an actual relationship?”

“Just like,” he replied, a little smile lifting the corner of his lips. “The kind where we get to do this.”

Sherlock reached up, gently grasping her chin, tilting her head to the proper angle so his lips could move in and meet hers.

_ Ooh yes _ , definitely the proper angle.

She couldn’t help but groan softly as they both really sunk into the kiss, reaching round the back of his head to bury her fingers into the inviting curls. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been wishing for more of this till now. The heavy emotional fallout of the past month or so had overshadowed the much simpler reality that she of course wanted him again. So very badly.

He hovered his parted against hers, whispering as if he’d read her thoughts. 

“I missed this.”

She sighed deeply, enjoying just being this close to him again. And under such nicer circumstances. 

“Y’know, this was all really something,” Molly said playfully, glancing around the room again. “Did someone else suggest the candles?”

“Pff, I do have some sense of what a romantic gesture should be,” he replied indignantly, making her giggle. “I assumed our first encounter wasn’t quite ideal, from the bathroom floor to the sofa to an awkward exit the next morning. Seemed appropriate to make up for those things now, being more myself again. I wanted to create an unforgettable mood.”

He paused.

“Ok, John did suggest a few candles.”

Molly threw her head back in laughter. Naturally, Sherlock took a normal suggestion like that and made it very much his own. Nice and dramatic. 

“Well it was awfully thoughtful of you to make this kind of effort,” she said sweetly, fingers twirling lightly around his hair as she spoke. “And now I’m sort of hoping...you don’t have anywhere else to be?”

His lips lifted slowly again, eyes dancing in the flickering lights.

“Actually, I have a number of places I’d like to be,” he murmured. “I had hopes of being terribly busy tonight.”

Molly bit her lip, grinning at his response as he leaned in and placed an enticingly slow kiss to her neck which sent a lovely little shiver down her back. 

Sherlock unexpectedly sat upright again though, pursing his lips amusingly.

“At the risk of ruining the moment, your sofa is truly atrocious and I suggest we move any further activities to your bedroom.”

Molly laughed as he stood and pulled her up with him, which somehow led to more kissing as they gradually made their way down the little hallway to her room. 

“You know, after all this, I never got to tell you what that night at Baker St meant to me,” Molly whispered between kisses against the doorframe of her bedroom. 

“I’d very much like to hear all about it,” he whispered, conveniently nibbling right below her ear. 

“Maybe I should make you wait a few weeks,” she teased, tugging him over the threshold as she was becoming a bit impatient to reach their destination. 

“Take your time,” he purred, backing her up till her legs hit the edge of the bed. Looming over her, he caressed her cheek and down the side of her neck, his gaze suddenly so breathtakingly intense. “You can make me wait fifty years if you’d like...because I’ll still be here.” 

Well that did it.

Molly somehow managed to spin them around and then practically shove him onto the bed, following very happily on top of him. Before she could lean down to begin devouring his perfect lips once again though, something dawned on her as she glanced around.

“Wait,” she said. “You set up candles in here too?”

Sherlock shrugged, smiling as his arms slid up and around her back. “Just seemed like I should be ready.”

Molly smiled back at him, leaning down close enough to touch her nose to his, making him reach impatiently for her as she spoke.

“And it’s about bloody time you were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fluffy romance, Batman! I’d say things now ended happily! Hope those of you who wanted a follow up enjoyed this. Thanks for reading! ;)


End file.
